The Victor's Daughter
by SorryWrongUsername
Summary: Cold. Vicious. Names Clove's been called by people who don't know her. But she doesn't actually care. Other than her family and her instructor Enobaria, the only thing she cares about is going into the Hunger Games. Either she comes out or doesn't. Once again, she doesn't care. But what happens when a certain blonde-haired boy shows up and she finds herself caring? Clato
1. Chapter 1

This is obviously a Hunger Games Fanfiction. A lot of things will change in this story. Mostly because I think Katniss is full of herself, but you never know; I may change my mind. No offense or anything. Some of the things in this story may seem impossible due to time differences and area of origin but just go along with it. Well, it doesn't actually matter because you have no choice but to go along with it.

**_Third Person Point of View_**

She couldn't believe it. She had made it out of the games alive. She kind of knew she would. It was her instincts that told her she would. Not to protect herself, or to kill, or to even provide a better home for herself - not that District two wasn't an okay place to live; they did get better treatment than any other district due to their loyalty during the Dark Days.

No, but to protect the child growing within.

That's right, she went into the Hunger Games pregnant. And she made it out alive. _They_ made it out alive. Normally only twenty four people would enter the games and only one would make it out, but this time twenty five had went in and two had walked out. That was a miracle within itself.

To be honest, she thought that the Capitol would notice another life force inside her and try to kill her child, but they hadn't. For that she was ecstatic. She could've never let a child - one that hadn't lived a day of its life no less - suffer because of her stupid mistake.

People always assumed that people from the career districts were heartless because of their viciousness. That wasn't true. They simply fought to protect themselves, get back to their families, and to bring honor to themselves. What made the other districts so different?

It's not like people from the career districts had a choice to be born; they just were. They had to fight. It was kill or be killed. The number one rule in District Two, the infamous masonry district.

Not only would her family be proud of her, but now she'd have a family of her own. This child would be protected, she'd make sure of that.

But first she would need to learn how to take care of a child.

She groaned. Who was she kidding? She was fourteen soon to be fifteen, she wasn't ready to take care of a child.

She sighed, before stepping off the train. She smiled and waved at the crowd, like she was instructed to do. District two cheered loudly, it was an honor to be in the games, and an even bigger honor to win them.

She read the speech that she was given before heading towards the Victor's Village where she'd be staying for now. She'd be living alone because all of her siblings were over the age of eighteen and her parents had passed away. Now that she had won she no longer needed to live with her brother, and technically she was now semi-responsible for herself.

She took a quick tour of the house to familiarize herself with it. It'd be a bit embarrassing if she couldn't remember where things were in her own house, especially when she had to show it to her family.

After she was absolutely sure she remembered everything, she picked a room and laid down, taking in everything.

She had won the games. She actually won the games! She couldn't be more excited that she did. Nothing right then could upset her.

She hadn't realized that she fell asleep until sunlight streamed in through the folds of the curtains. She sat up and rubbed the sleep and grogginess away from her eyes. She stretched and groaned.

She remembered that it was the day her siblings were coming over to see and congratulate her on her win. She pulled the covers back and cautiously brought one foot to the ground, as if making sure there weren't any traps set up after she was fell asleep. Just because she who the games didn't mean she trusted the gamemakers or the Capitol itself. Not even the fact that if they had truly wished to kill her they would have done it while she was asleep instead of setting up traps comforted her.

When she deemed it safe, she stood up, and semi-blindly walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower - even though the godforsaken thing confused her to no end. She grabbed clothes and a towel before walking back in.

She walked out fifteen minutes later, sporting long, damp, raven black hair. She was dressed in a slightly casual, slightly killer black jumpsuit with matching black combat boots. She stuffed throwing knives in her boots. She didn't want to be unarmed if attacked, not that anyone actually had the guts or balls to do it. They knew not to mess with her, she had always been deadly; ever since she was seven.

She stopped in front of a mirror and scoffed. The mirror was about three feet taller than her and about two feet wider. Why would anyone need a mirror that big? Not that she wasn't used to them, she just didn't like them. They were useless, it's not like she was constantly staring at herself.

She sighed, and rubbed her stomach where her unborn child was growing. It was a good thing her baby bump hadn't begun to grow. The games made sure of that.

She walked down the stairs and reached into her cabinets, where she knew there'd already be stocked food. She was right.

She quickly ate the food that she found, and went back upstairs to brush her teeth.

When she finished, she splashed some water on her face and grinned. She was pretty good at the 'being responsible' thing.

She trekked down the stairs again, and sat on the oh-so comfortable, yet completely inessential couch, and grabbed the remote. She looked down at the black stick that couldn't be more than a foot. They had many things in District Two but a T.V. and a remote - currently known as 'the black stick that couldn't be more than a foot' - was not one of those things. A few people had them, but they rarely ever needed them, nor were they as grand as the one sitting opposite of her current position.

After careful consideration, she threw the remote down and laid across the couch, and stared up at the ceiling. There wasn't really any reason to watch the T.V. when all it was probably showing was the highlights of her games. She most definitely did not want to relive that.

She closed her eyes, and relished in the peaceful silence. Before she knew it, she was slowly drifting off.

She jerked upwards at the only-now frightening sound of a knock. She looked over at the door in confusion before glancing at the clock and cursing. She scrambled off the couch and ran to the door. She forgot her family were coming to congratulate her.

She opened the door and was greeted by one of her older brothers, Cassius. He was the youngest brother but still five years older than her and never let her forget so.

The aforementioned man grinned down at her. He had hair as dark as hers, with semi-chiseled jaw, and what she heard many girls call 'the most adorable smile'. With the same dark hair and tan complexion, there was no wonder that if they were siblings. It often annoyed them of their resemblance to not only each other, but their older siblings as well. Same dark hair. Same tan skin. Same dark eyes. Same good looks. It was safe to say that beauty ran in the Vincere family.

"Hey, little sis," Her brother, Cassius, greeted warmly. He bent down to give her a hug. "How has life on your own been treating you?"

She smiled back and let him in. "So far it's going great, though, it gets a bit lonely."

"I bet it does," he agrees, his smile never faltering. "Now what did I say about wearing stuff like that?" he asked, after taking in her appearance. "It's too revealing for my little sister."

"Well I'm living on my own now, so I have to learn to make my own decisions," she replied, leading him over to the couch. "And I did, so here we are."

He sighed, taking a seat. "I still don't think you should be living all by yourself. None of us do," There was no question about who 'us' was, he was obviously talking about the other occupants of the Vincere family.

"I know. But it was bound to happen." She answers, trying to quell his worries.

"But not when your fourteen!" he exclaimed, before taking a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice came out softer, "I'm just worried something will happen."

"It won't. Victors get treated extremely well. And not to mention the fact that people fear them just as much as they admire them." She looked at him, trying to convince him. "They'll be too afraid to do anything. If they try, they might just find themselves without a limb."

Cassius laughed at his sister's suggestion. "Where's everybody else?" he asked, only now noticing that they were alone. "Surely I'm not here on time."

"Actually you are," she answered him. Then added, "For the first time in your life."

He glanced at her quizzically. She shrugged doing her best to conceal a smirk. "Well, how long until everyone shows up?"

"Any minute now, really."

They continued to talk and her brother told her a few of the things that happened while she was gone. She found herself not really having anything worthwhile to tell. Everything that had happened in her games he had already seen. As did everyone else, and she really didn't want to tell him about the 'prepping' for the games, or even after. So, she simply let him talk.

Soon, her family had all shown up and were talking. She laughed and smiled, and they laughed and smiled back. Her eldest brother, Airo, and his wife, Marilyn, had talked about how their little girl had just turned two, (which made her very sad that she missed her niece's second birthday) and how they already wanted more. That statement alone sparked something inside of her. They were old enough and were a complete family; they could afford to want children unlike herself.

By the time her second eldest brother, Braelin, and his wife, Charlene, had said they were expecting their first child, she was completely and utterly guilt-stricken. Two of her brothers were of age - technically all three of them were, but she knew Cassius didn't want any yet. He wanted to wait. And that was okay, he was nineteen. Her brother, Airo, was twenty four, and Braelin was twenty two. She, on the other completely unhelpful hand, was only fourteen.

Her sister-in-law noticed this. "What's got you down?" Marilyn asked. They all turned to look at her.

She couldn't exactly just tell them. If she did then she'd have three extremely pissed brothers, and two very worried sisters-in-law. She shook her head. "It's just. . ." She racked her brain for a valid lie. When she found one, she changed her facial expression to fit it, "The arena. The blood. Dead bodies. It's all too much, knowing that twenty three other kids lost their lives while I'm still living. And it doesn't help the fact that I had my fair share - well unfair share of kills. Then to top it all off, I had to stand in front of their parents and say some speech that supposedly showed my sorrow, but then was expected to go around and act like I liked killing them. . . Like I was some bloodthirsty killer who'd kill anyone just because I could."

Her family all offered smiles of comfort, and did their best to say comforting things. I smiled sadly so i could keep the act up.

After lunch, they all played games. She excused herself to go to the bathroom, but to tell them to keep playing.

When she walked out of the bathroom, she trekked through the halls, but was grabbed by a set of arms. She struggled slightly, but she struggled a little too late because she was pulled into a closet she wasn't aware she had. They flipped on the lights, to reveal that the closet was bigger than expected, and just who her captors were.

"Marilyn? Charlene?" She questioned. She let out a sigh of relief. They weren't kidnappers or robbers. "Wait, how'd you find this place? Even I didn't know I had it."

They looked at her firmly. "Spill," Charlene ordered.

"Spill what?"

They rolled their eyes. "You know what I mean." When she offered no sign of being aware of what they meant, they huffed. This time it was Marilyn that spoke, "Something's up and the arena isn't the problem."

"What do you mean it's not the problem," She was starting to get nervous now. "Of course it's the problem! I was sent into a -"

"Cut the shit, sis." Charlene ordered. "One way or another you're going to tell us what the problem is."

She must have looked like she was ready to bolt because they both stepped in front of the door. "Tell us."

"Can I trust you?"

Once again, they rolled their eyes, but they were both sporting smiles; they weren't annoyed. That was good because if she told them then they'd be more than annoyed.

"We're your sisters-in law, of course you can trust us," was all the reply she got.

"I mean, can I trust you not to tell anyone?"

They nodded and she took a deep breath, before mumbling it out. "What?" They asked straining their ears to hear her. "Speak louder."

She mumbled it again, but only a bit louder. They asked her to repeat it again.

"For the love of God, I'm pregnant! There, I said it."

Her brothers' wives looked at her, then at each other, and back at her. Charlene was the first to speak, "What? Please tell me I heard wrong."

She shook her head no. "I wish you did."

"What do you mean you're pregnant?! You're only fourteen,"

She glanced around, hoping nobody heard her. "Yes, Marilyn, I'm aware of my age but I oh so kindly thank you for pointing that out. Would you care to . . . oh I don't know . . . _say that a bit louder_?" She hissed. The brunette aforementioned woman silently apologized.

"Seriously, how did this happen?" Charlene questioned. She was really starting to get tired of all these questions.

She quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, I think you know how it happened. I mean, you're pregnant, too."

"Yes, but that involves something someone your age shouldn't be participating in."

"It doesn't involve it, it _is_ it." She answered and her sisters by marriage gave her their usual look that they gave her when she was being smart. Not that it bothered them, they liked how independent she sounded no matter how old she was. "And since we're mentioning things that someone my age shouldn't be participating in then we might as well bring in the games. No kid should be put through that, yet that doesn't make the fact that twenty four of them are sent it every year."

They sighed. "So, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know," she exclaimed.

"We're going to have to tell them."

Her eyes widened. "No, please!" She begged. "You promised."

They looked at each other. "We're going to have to tell them. It's the only way."

"There _has_ to be another way. Please,"

Once again, they looked at each other. None of them had an idea, and she felt her heart sinking. They were going to tell her brothers.

"Well," Marilyn started, and they looked at her. "I do have an idea."

"And that is . . . ?" She felt her hope rising.

"Two of them actually." She took a deep breath. "There's adoption-"

She cut her off. "There's no way that I'm sending my child to an adoption center. Who's to say they'll even get adopted."

Marilyn gave her a _let me finish_ look. "Second, you could give them to me."

Both of the other occupants of the closet looked at her confused. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Airo and I want another child. This could be a chance for all of us. Your child gets a life that's not in the adoption agency, you still get to see them, and Airo and I get the child that we want."

She nodded. She really liked this idea, it was a win-win situation. "But,"

She groaned. She should have known there was going to be a 'but'. "But, what?"

"We'll have to tell Airo."

"What?" she shouted. "But-" She was cut off. "It'll only be him." Marilyn promised.

"But he'll be so mad at me. He'll never trust me again."

"I'll soften him up, while Charlene goes back and distracts the others, then you'll come in."

She didn't completely agree with the plan, but it was the only one. She hugged both of them, and they hugged her back. She was glad that her brothers had married women as amazing as these two, and could only hope that Cassius was lucky enough to get one as well.

They all took their respective 'places' for the plan, and set in action. Charlene walked back, but not before sending her a wink and a thumbs up, and she grinned back. In minutes, she heard them all laughing.

Out the corner of her eye, she saw Marilyn lead Airo into a room, and she too sent a wink her way before closing the door. She grinned again. She really did love her family.

No sooner did the door shut did she hear shouts, and she winced. He sounded really angry. No matter how loud the shouts got, no one in the living room heard or at least had half a mind not to disturb because she heard continuous laughter.

The door to the room opened and Marilyn motioned for her to come in. She did so albeit nervously.

When she did, the door behind her slammed shut, and she flinched at the sound. She stared into her brother's eyes. They were mad, but not angry, so that was good. And to make it better, when she walked in, his eyes softened. She was super happy to see that, but she slightly expected it. He always had a soft spot for family.

His went from searching hers for an answer all the way down to her stomach. Thankfully, he didn't stare in disgust. After what felt like hours, he finally spoke, but his voice was hoarse, "So, what's this I hear about you being pregnant?" Straight down to business, that was another Vincere trait.

"Um," she stammered, before taking a deep breath to compose herself. When she felt confident, she spoke, and the words spewed from her mouth, not one word being a lie.

"So, who's the father of my niece and/or nephew soon-to-be son or daughter?" He grinned. She sighed and in a flash she engulfed both of them. They were willing to take them.

"I. . ." She didn't know how to word her statement. "I don't really feel comfortable answering. I just want to forget." Thankfully neither of them pried.

"Do you know how many there are?" he asked, gesturing towards her stomach. She shook her head no.

He nodded, and explained that they were going to say that they wanted to adopt, and when the child or children (God, she hoped not) were born, they'd say they adopted her. Though, Airo mentioned that he didn't understand why they had to keep it a secret when they knew as did Charlene, and that it was only two people who wouldn't know. But she wouldn't have it.

They walked back to the group, and when they sat down, Charlene smiled warmly, and the games were once again begun.

"Push!" A midwife, who was sworn to secrecy about who she helped and had both her sisters-in-law in their deliveries, ordered. She gave a cry of pain before pushing. Charlene, who had already given birth to her daughter months previously, gripped her right hand, while Marilynn gripped her left. Her brother had simply refused to come in, saying that watching the process of birth made him squeamish. He wasn't kidding either, apparently when their daughter, Claire, was born he passed out.

She let out yet another scream while her sisters were whispering comforting words. She would have never imagined giving birth at the mere age of fifteen, and would most definitely not encourage anyone else. She was forced to push again, and let out another bloodcurdling scream doing so. No matter the pain, she wasn't going to give up not until she heard the scream of her child.

She pushed and pushed, and soon she heard the cry of a newborn baby. She could barely see because of the tears flooding her vision. "It's a girl," the midwife said smiling. A girl, she thought. I have a daughter.

After the baby was cleaned and checked and whatever other stuff that they did to babies, Marilynn and Airo walked in with her; Charlene was still seated next to her.

They smiled down at her. They asked if she wanted to hold her, and she simply nodded before her daughter was handed to her. She stared down at the bundle in her arms. She smiled, her daughter was beautiful. But no sooner did the thought enter her mind, was she filled with guilt. She brought such an innocent child into this cruel world. She pushed the thoughts out of her head and looked at her brother. "What have you decided you were going to name her?" she asked

"Actually, we decided we'd let you name her. You don't really have to worry about the last name since we have the same last name."

She was too consumed by the beauty of her daughter to say "Obviously," she simply nodded. She thought about until she smiled. "Clove," She answered. "You can pick the middle name."

Airo nodded, but instead of giving her an answer he looked at Marilynn who in turn looked over at Charlene. The two of them smiled, and seemed to understand what the other was thinking because they nodded. Marilynn turned back. "How about Marie, after your mother?" She asked. The sincerity in it nearly brought more tears to the brother and sister. "It's perfect," she choked out, and Airo simply nodded speechless.

"Clove Marie Vincere," Charlene said. "A pretty name for such a pretty girl."

All the others could do was nod.

And from then on, the Victor's Daughter was given a life, a future.

And most importantly, she was given a chance.

* * *

That's it. No, I was not trying to give out the message that teenagers (I'm one as well) should go and participate in that kind of stuff, it's just to help set up the story.


	2. Chapter 2

Clove Vincere didn't exactly have what people would call a normal childhood. For one ever since she was three she had absolutely adored knives, always trying to touch them and just be near them. Unfortunately for her, her parents didn't want her to be near them in fear she would get hurt. That didn't stop her from playing with them when they weren't looking though.

At age three (the age she first was drawn to knives) she had simply been sitting in her booster seat near the counter when her mother _accidentally_ left a small, shiny weapon on the counter to go check on her older sister. Of course being only three and finding literally everything exciting, she stared in awe at the sleek, silver thing that reflected the light from the lamp. As small as her little three year old hands were she managed to touch the long, black handle.

As soon as she grabbed ahold of the weapon a part of her knew there was something seriously special about it. But of course being only three she thought it was only special because she could see herself in it. She ran her chubby fingers against the blade but somehow received no cuts. She giggled happily. No harm was done... well until she tried to put the handle in her mouth.

Her mother had entered the kitchen as she tried to stick it in her mouth to no avail since it was too big for her little mouth. Her mother saw that the knife was no longer on the counter but in her daughter's clutches. She screamed and grabbed the knife careful not to hurt her. Clove started to sob at the loss of the shiny stick at the same time her father came barreling down the steps, ready to hurt anyone who tried to hurt his family, only to find his panicked wife and crying daughter. Her mother picked her up and began to rock her gently while explaining to her father what had happened. That day it was decided that they'd keep all sharp objects out of her grip.

And they almost succeeded.

Key word: _almost_. But as they say, in a matter of life and death, living and surviving, almost counts for almost something.

Three months later when she prided herself on now not only being able to walk freely because her parents trusted she wouldn't fall, but running literally everywhere. (Her parents didn't trust her so much on this one.) But it excited her nonetheless, now she'd be able to keep up with Claire, her sister.

It still angered her that she didn't get to see her sister as much since Claire had started school and had early training at Lil Peacekeeper Training (dedicated to teaching the next peacekeepers and volunteers of the district!).

And how fortunate for her to happen to stumble upon a knife. Right there in front of her was the same shiny, sleek, reflective stick she had previously encountered. She tried to reach it but it was on a counter and she was only but so tall.

As determined as any three year old could be, she grabbed the bottom drawer and pulled it completely out. She stepped onto it, letting out an adorable, childish giggle before gripping on to the other drawer and pulling it out but not as far as the first. She had trouble hoisting herself up, but she managed just fine. She grabbed the last drawer and pulled as well, hoisting herself up.

And at perfect eye level was the knife she so desperately missed. She made to grab it but it was still too far. So with a pout she pushed herself forward, completely propelling herself towards it. When she finally got close to it, she grabbed it and plopped herself down on the counter, giving a giggle of triumph.

She babbled on incoherently. She was able to talk, yes, but she had nothing specific to say. What was she supposed to say when she barely understood what was happening? She twirled and fingered the entrancing blade with awe and admiration, giving laughs and giggles ever so often. It was amazing, even to her.

Sadly her moment was short lived due to her sister walking in.

Claire had walked back home super excited. They taught her new defense moves and told her if she kept up all the good work, she'd be able to move up to real training a year early and couldn't wait to get home and play with her sister.

She walked in and didn't hear anything. Her parents must've been somewhere else in the house. Where was her sister? She walked into the kitchen to grab some juice. First she grabbed a cup and poured the juice before putting the carton back in the refrigerator. Neither of the Vincere sisters had noticed the other; one hadn't looked up across from her to see the child sitting on the counter, and the other was too engrossed with her new play toy to notice the other person.

Finally, Claire Vincere glances up before going back to her juice. As if something had crossed her mind, she did a double take and stared straight at her younger sister. She nearly dropped the glass.

She set the glass down on the counter closest to the fridge before running over to the counter that bordered the kitchen and the living room. She had been taught that using weapons was dangerous and weren't meant to be in the hands of the inexperienced. "Clove," Claire began softly, not to startle her. Clove looked up and her eyes widened with glee. She gave a mirthful laugh and dropped the knife beside her, extending her hands to her sister so she could pick her up.

Claire sighed, flooded with relief. She had put it down before she could get hurt. Remembering her sister's adorable demand to be held, she picked her up and held her. She rocked her gently speaking softly and soothingly to her sister who only giggled in response.

"Hi, Clove," she cooed to her sister. "What were you doing up there? Huh?"

She was fully aware that her sister could only understand so much but she couldn't resist asking. "Claire," laughed Clove. The soft laugh brought a smile to her face.

"Oh, never mind." She waved it away, dismissively. "Wanna go play?"

Clove's eyes widened once again and she clapped her hands, happily.

Claire took that as a yes.

She walked to their living room and set her down, Clove's earlier frightening escapade long forgotten. So when their parents walked in and saw them playing nothing was suspected. Not even when they questioned why the drawers were open.

As much as they tried to keep her away from knives, Clove always managed to find one (and that's if they were lucky). So it was decided that she'd be sent to the Lil Peacekeepers Training like her sister was when she became of age.

Just as Claire was promised she was sent to the Victor Training Center at age six, a year earlier than most. And a year later, Clove followed in her sister's path, making both girls young prodigies. Whether that was good or bad, no one questioned.

So that's how Claire and Clove Vincere both ended up standing outside of the training academy come August twelfth.

"Now, just remember," her sister was saying, "don't be smart. Keep your head down and don't talk unless spoken to. The instructors in here are pretty mean and will punish you if you step out of line."

They were standing at the bottom of the steps of the training center. Claire was giving Clove the quick minute rundown of the academy. Personally, it was all too boring for her to care; the do's and dont's were definitely things she could do without but she knew her sister was only saying this for her sake.

"Are there any nice instructors?"

Claire pondered this. "Yes," she decided. "Moderately anyway."

Claire took a deep breath before launching into an explanation. "Brutus is kinda cool. He's strict as heck but if he's harder on you it means he thinks you have potential. It's his way of saying that he likes you or at least has enough respect for you." She looked at her sister to make sure she was following. "Then there's Enobaria. She's kinda hard on you but that's just because she believes in firm teaching. She's actually pretty cool. Laid back, kind, playful; all that kind of stuff. Especially if you mention our last name."

"What's so special about our last name?" It was genuine curiosity this time instead of her just asking to humor her sister.

Claire simply shrugged.

"I don't know," she answered truthfully. "All she told me was that she was an old family friend. Something about being our parents' neighbor when they were kids."

Before either girl could say something to further continue their conversation, the first bell rang and the girls took off running up the steps.

They pushed the front doors open and began jogging through the halls. "No running!" a voice called. "Must I remind you of the rules again, Clary?"

Claire turned around grinning. "Must I remind you that not being late is also a rule?"

In front of them stood a dark haired, tan woman. She was a beautiful sight to be seen; definitely easy on the eyes. With her tan looks you'd think she came straight from Four but with her own twist. Her dark brown eyes gave off a dark look that didn't yet comply with the mirthful twinkle they were currently giving off even though she was trying her best to scowl. She had high cheekbones with just the right amount of cheek and full, round lips and an oval shaped jaw set in a grin that told Clove if she was flashing her teeth then she would've blinded anyone in a ten foot radius. Her raven black hair was up in a ponytail that was cascading down the right side of her back and over her shoulder in a careless manner. She had strong, firm shoulders (some you usually wouldn't find on girls but fit her just right) that were tilted due to the fact she had her hand on her hip. She was donned in a black and silver jumpsuit that fit her perfectly and clung to her curves.

She was tall about 5'11, easily towering over both the Vincere sisters. Clove could only hope she was a friend of Claire's.

"Touché, Clary."

"How're your parents doing? Thinking about having another child?" The woman spoke to Claire as if they had known each other for the longest time.

Claire snorted. "They're doing fine, yes. As for the child thing," she laughed, "as if."

The woman laughed with her. "I thought that would be your answer."

The woman still hadn't made any acknowledgment towards the fact that she was there. Either the woman chose to ignore her or Clove was seriously a lot shorter than what she had thought.

Another bell sounded and Claire huffed. "I would love to stay and chat but I gotta go!" she rushed out before taking off. She didn't even bother to show Clove her class.

The woman laughed before turning back and only then seemed to notice Clove's presence.

"Oh, hi,"

"Hello," Clove answered quietly.

"What are you doing here?"

Clove scoffed. "Um, obviously standing. What else would I be doing?" As soon as the words left her mouth, Clove regretted it. With a suddenly pale face, Clove vividly remembered her sister warning her about showing respect and avoiding trouble. What horrible punishment would she receive now that she forgotten to heed her sister's warning?

To her surprise, the woman threw her head back slightly and let out a melodic laugh.

The woman just smirked at Clove after she had stopped laughing. "You really are something, Kid."

"What's your name?" she countered. She really didn't want to continue to talk to a complete stranger. And no, she did not count the fact her sister knew her as a reason to trust her. Not in the slightest.

"What's yours?"

Clove frowned. "I asked you first," she retorted, only then realizing how childish she sounded.

The woman simply continued to stand there and smirk. It annoyed Clove to no end. "Oh, no one cares about first anymore. Didn't you hear? Second's where it's at." The woman grinned, her tone now sarcastic.

"No it isn't."

"Yeah, it is." She quirked an eyebrow mockingly.

Just to make matters worse, the woman squatted down so that she was eye level with Clove.

Cove let out a snort of laughter. "That's offensive."

The woman just smiled. "So, you gonna give me a name or what?"

She sighed. "Clove," she muttered.

"What?"

"Clove," she repeated

She strained her ears to hear her. "What? Kid, you're going to have to speak louder than that."

"Clove," she said once again.

"Clover?"

Clove repeated her name again. "I'm still hearing Clover."

Clove snapped. "For the love of whatever god out there, I said Clove!"

Once again, the woman grinned. "Feisty," she chuckled. "I like it."

"Now, are you going to tell me your name or am I going to have to keep referring to you as 'the woman' in my head?"

'The woman' looked at her as if she was stupid or from another planet entirely. "Wait . . . you weren't joking when you asked what my name was?"

"No," Clove was starting to get annoyed now. "Why would I?"

The woman shrugged. "I don't know. It's just . . . I thought everyone would know who I was." Her eyebrows creased. "I mean I am a pretty big icon here and in the Capitol."

"Yeah, well apparently not big enough for me to know who you are."

The woman sighed and rubbed her temple. "Maybe this'll give you a little hint about who I am."

Before Clove could ask what she meant the woman bared her fang-like teeth in a smile. Only then did Clove notice how inhumane her teeth looked.

Now, Enobaria was expecting a lot of different reactions. Most of them ending with the kid screaming and running away or their eyes widening in fear before cowering away.

None of which she got.

Clove's eyes did widen though, but in awe instead of the fear Enobaria was expecting.

"That is so cool!" Clove exclaimed and Enobaria was slightly taken aback. How was this kid not afraid?

Before she could say something, Clove had placed her hands on Enobaria's lips which in turn parted in surprise. Just as she was about to close her mouth, Clove's hand shot up and touched her teeth. She ran her fingers along her bottom teeth in awe and amazement before doing the same to the top.

Saying that Enobaria was stunned would be an understatement.

Not even Claire, who was the first kid to see Enobaria and think her teeth were cool instead of being afraid, reached up to touch them.

"Wow," Clove sighed. "Are they real?"

It took a minute for Enobaria to realize she was talking to her. "Uh, no. The Capitol changed them."

Clove only just nodded, not really wanting to hear about the woman's life story. "So, who are you?"

And once again, Clove was met with a strange look. "You still don't know?"

"Obviously," she snorted.

"Well then," she grumbled. "I'm Enobaria. An instructor here and one of District Two's many victors."

Clove remembered her sister mentioning an Enobaria. Thankfully, she also remembered she was one of the nicer ones.

Once again, Enobaria was completely stunned with the kid's reaction. "That's cool. Now I kinda gotta get to class and stuff." In was a polite way of asking her to move.

Instead of listening to the double meaning, Enobaria chose to continue to talk.

"How old are you? You look like you're four."

Clove scowled. "I'm not that short!"

Enobaria snorted. "And I'm not that tall." She replied sarcastically.

Clove simply huffed. "I'm six,"

"Ah, another person to show up at the academy a year early. Say, how do you know Claire?"

This time it was Clove's turn to look at her as if she was stupid. "I'm her sister."

Enobaria's eyes widened.

"Another Vincere child to show up early. What about your cousin, Sophie?"

Clove didn't know how she knew about all this but remembered that she was an apparent family friend. "She didn't want to move up."

Enobaria nodded. "What weapon do you specialize in?"

A grin spread across the newcomer's face. "Knives," was her instant answer.

Enobaria grinned, standing up again. "Good, looks like you and I have quite a bit in common. Now come on, I'll show you to your class."

"Why?"

"Because I, unlike you, actually know where I'm going." She grinned.

Surprisingly, Clove grinned back. She was starting to like this chick. "That and I happen to be in charge of 'initiation'."

Clove let out a laugh.

Now she was someone Clove wanted to be like. Not that the six years old would tell her that. The woman already looked like she had a ginormous ego. No need in increasing it.

"Well you comin' or not, Kid?" Enobaria called over her shoulder.

"Coming, Ri,"

Enobaria stopped. "What?"

"If you're going to call me 'kid' then I'm calling you either Ri, Eno, En, or Baria," Clove shrugged.

"Did I say you could?" She challenged jokingly.

"Did I ask?" she joked back.

The two just laughed as they made their way to class.

And in that moment the victor's daughter chance was turned into a dream soon to come true.

And she'd make it come true alright.

* * *

I like foreshadowing chapters like this. It's fun.

Now even though no ones reading I need to ask a quick question. For the games should I do the classic two and have Everlark win and then do an alternate ending where Two wins, or should I do the cliche four and make it where either Everlark and Clato win or Clato and Glarvel?

I'm not really sure so I decided to go ahead and ask just in case.


End file.
